The air on the balcony of the Grayson Estate was thick with frost and nicotine. Xavier’s threat to ground Liam Jr. did nothing to dampen the boy’s defiance. The two stood in a silent deadlock—mirror images of stubborn Grayson pride—until the boy spun on his heel and marched out.
SLAM!
The sound of Liam Jr.’s bedroom door echoed through the mansion like a gunshot, a clear gauge of the boy's absolute fury.
Xavier lit another cigarette, his fingers steady but his jaw tight. He stared at his phone and, for the third time, dialed Chloe Bishop. This time, the call didn't even last half a ring before the line went dead.
She hung up again.
His grip on the device tightened. Just as he was about to dial a fourth time, a text message lit up the screen:
"What is it?"
Xavier's thumbs flew across
